


lemon man

by waveydnp



Series: byebye 20gayteen daily fic advent [10]
Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M, Meet-Cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-10
Updated: 2018-12-10
Packaged: 2019-09-15 17:41:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16937769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waveydnp/pseuds/waveydnp
Summary: prompt: Phan AU based on the song Night Like This by Hilary Duff feat. Kendall Schmidt (not angsty pls)





	lemon man

He’s wearing a yellow jacket. The hood is pulled up and the zipper is white and it fits him like a glove but it’s bright yellow and by all accounts he should look like a right twat because what grown man with any self respect would wear a yellow rain jacket stood outside a busy club in London at midnight on a Friday night?

But Dan’s eyes keep drifting back to linger on that bright yellow rain jacket and the grown man who occupies it. His hair is a shock of black against the lemon. 

Or is it mustard?

No, lemon. Maybe it’s mustard but Dan likes the metaphor of lemon better. He’s sticking with lemon.

It’s possible Dan is slightly drunk. He’d only had a couple drinks but something about loud music and grinding against strangers heightens every sensation in his body.

That’s why he’s here; to drown out the inner thoughts with an onslaught of the physical. 

Sometimes it actually works. Tonight it didn’t and that’s why he’s stood here in the rain waiting for a cab while the rest of his mates remain inside, getting pissed and dancing badly. 

Why is the lemon man leaving so early?

He looks up and catches Dan staring. Dan’s reaction speed is way too slow to look away now without making it obvious so he offers a smile instead. 

Lemon man smiles back. Dan wishes they were stood a little closer. 

He can’t seem to look away though he knows he’s pushed this little encounter past the point of social acceptability. He’s not even smiling anymore. Now he’s just looking.

Is lemon man looking too?

His hands are in his pockets, the thumbs stuck out. He looks tall from where Dan is. He’s not smiling anymore but he’s still looking and he looks kind. He smiles again. 

Maybe it’s a laugh. He looks down at his feet, the corners of his lips still turned up.

Why is lemon man alone? No one with a smile like that should be alone on a night like this.

Dan wants to know him. He wants to know his name and what he likes to eat for breakfast and what kind of music he listens to and his hopes and dreams. He wants to know what it feels like to kiss him.

He tears his gaze away but only for a moment. He can’t help himself. His brain wants more of that sunshine smile and lemon yellow. 

His trainers are wet, socks damp and toes cold. He’s not prepared for this weather at all, he’s not got an umbrella or even a coat, just a thin black jumper and hair that’s no doubt getting curlier by the minute. He’s not shivering yet but he reckons he will be soon and lemon man looks warm.

His trainers are white and they’re walking forward now, toward the road. There’s a car at the curb waiting for him.

The disappointment Dan feels is keen, but then that smile is directed at him again and it lingers a beat too long to be casual. Dan is frozen to the spot as he watches the yellow disappear inside the car.

The door doesn’t shut right away and suddenly Dan’s feet are acting of their own accord and carrying Dan toward the cab - and into it. 

He shuts the door and the driver says, “Where to?”

Lemon man looks at Dan with ocean eyes and smiles. “Where you going?” His voice is deep. He pushes his hood off and tries to fluff up what once must have been a quiff. 

“I… I don’t know.” He hadn’t thought this part through. He really hadn’t thought any part through.

Lemon man smiles and leans forward to give an address to the driver. Dan doesn’t recognize it.

“I like your jacket,” Dan blurts when this sunny stranger leans back in his seat again. “You look like a lemon.”

He laughs. “And you look like a walking funeral. In a nice way.”

“That’s fitting.”

“Why? Are you dead? Am I sharing a ride with a ghost?”

“Maybe I am,” Dan says. It feels easy, this conversation, like he already knows who he’s talking to. “Am I sharing a ride with a sour citrus fruit?”

“Lemme check.” He lifts up his arm and pulls back his sleeve to sink his teeth into his own skin. “Nope. Tastes like marshmallow, actually. What do you taste like?”

Dan cocks an eyebrow and lemon man smirks and they both look away from each other at the same moment to chuckle to themselves.

“Sorry,” lemon man says, biting down on the tip of his tongue. 

Dan wishes he could think of something clever to say but he’s busy staring at the slightly beak-like curve of lemon man’s nose.

“What’s your name?” Lemon man asks.

“Dan. What’s yours? I assume it isn’t actually lemon man.”

“It could be, if you want. I can be called whatever you like.”

Dan shakes his head, his lip caught between his teeth to try to mitigate the grinning.

“I’m Phil.” 

“Phil,” Dan repeats. 

Lemon Phil smiles. “Dan.”

Dan does a weird little two finger salute starting at his temple and regrets it instantly but Phil looks endeared.

“Dan. Do you make it a habit to jump into cabs with strangers?”

“Never.”

“Can’t say that anymore though, can you?” Phil stretches his leg over the space between them and kicks lightly at Dan’s foot.

“What d’you mean?” Dan asks. “You’re not a stranger, you’re lemon man.”

“That makes me sound like a weird kind of superhero. I squirt juice in the eyes of the bad guys and make lemonade for old ladies I’ve helped cross the street.”

“Sounds like you’ve got it all sorted,” Dan says.

“You’re my sidekick.”

“Am I?”

Phil nods. “Funeral boy.”

“Why am I a boy and you’re a man?”

“Sidekicks are always boys,” Phil informs him. 

“Well maybe I’m not a sidekick,” Dan argues, crossing his arms over his chest. “Maybe I’m actually your nemesis.”

“Oooh, yeah. That works! Only… I reckon I shouldn’t share my cab with you if you’re trying to like, put me into a massive Lemon Man sized juicer or something.”

“Maybe I secretly just want some lemonade.” Dan winks.

Phil’s cheeks go pink. Dan has to look away for a moment, out the window to distract from the butterflies fluttering away in his guts. Rain slides down the glass and the lights from passing cars are blurred by the water. 

The car is stopped at a red light. Dan hopes they hit every single one.

They’re both a little more quiet after that, but it doesn’t feel awkward. There’s a tension simmering so palpably Dan’s sure he’s not the only one who can feel it.

Eventually the car stops for real and Phil hands the driver a few bills and opens his door to step out. Dan’s heart is pounding and he doesn’t know what to do or say but then Phil reaches out a hand and asks, “You coming?”

Phil’s fingers are soft and cold, their hold on Dan’s gentle but sure as they pull him from the back of the cab. 

The car drives away and they’re stood on the pavement in front of a coffee shop hand in hand.

“So,” Phil says softly. “I live up there.” He points to the flats above the shop. “And I drink a lot of coffee here.” He nods his head toward the cafe. “Either sound appealing to you?”

Dan smiles and squeezes Phil’s hand. “Both. But let’s start with coffee.”


End file.
